


Give a Little, Get a Little

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gay, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, Pure, Short & Sweet, What Was I Thinking?, What am I doing, Who am I, but not like all that gay, drunk, environmentalists, good for the whole family, help me, i feel like this is apart of another universe, mentions of bees, not really - Freeform, purely being drunk, subtle relationships, theres no sex i am a child of god, why did I post this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 08:56:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9314489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Alexander Hamilton planned to get Thomas Jefferson for the blackmail, he was one of the few people who didn't know what type of drunk Thomas was.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lozey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lozey/gifts).



> hello this is my first fanfic on this website and in this fandom and i honestly have no idea but yeah i hope y'all like it idk how to write notes but i fiddled the riddle so im here posting it hi  
> it is pure let me live my life

When Alexander Hamilton planned to get Thomas Jefferson as a prank (and for the blackmail), he was one of the few people who didn't know what type of drunk Thomas was. Any of his friends could have told him, and John even tried to, but he seemed set on the idea that Thomas would be a loose-lipped drunk.

And he was. Well, sort of.

Really, as anyone who had known him in high school could've told you, he was a... passionate drunk, to say the least.

Alex tugs on Jefferson's arm, pulling him away from the succulent he was cooing at. The taller man frowns at him, pulling the other way. Alexander loosens his grip with a sigh, and Jefferson's chest puffs out.

"Don't disrespect the plants!" He snaps at the smaller boy. Alex rolls his eyes, and Jefferson starts another tangent. "The Earth isn't ours to manipulate, the least we can do to is be nice. Everything on earth could survive without us, yet if bees go extinct the entire ecosystem will fail. Literally any animal besides humans have a great influence in the ecosystem, and we're the only ones ruining the planet. We've been around for no time at all and we've caused so much damage, we need to fix it! And since we made the mess, we're the only ones who can pick up after it!"

"Yes, you've said that already-"

"No, I don't think you understand. We are the guardians of the earth, we can't falter in our position. It's up to us to make a difference. We give a little to the earth, we get a little back. It's how it works."

Thomas took a breath, looked at Hamilton's hands resting at his sides, and dashed outside, his curls bouncing. Alex let out a noise if surprise, dashing after the taller man, grabbing an old green hoodie and pulling it over his head as he ran, cursing the other man in his head. He skids to a stop at the steps to their building, eyeing the foot of snow before him, his eyes scanning the landscape for a sign of Jefferson's dark skin.

"What the fuck," he mutters, his eyes landing on an indent in the snow some feet away. He turns his gaze to his bare feet and how his tanned skin shines with bright contrast against the white of the snow, practically glowing under the light of the full moon.

"Thomas?" he calls out, wanting to make sure the figure lying in the snow really was him.

His voice sang back, "Snow is nature's blanket!"

Alex scoffs, turning tail and heading back into his empty dorm. He grabs a pair of boots, then tosses them aside promptly.

"Whatever, let him die. At least he'll be happy," he whispers to himself, staring out the cracked window and listening to the other man sing from where he lays. Alex shakes his head, eyeing the dark boots from where they lay on his mat, and the heavy coat hanging on the doorknob above them.

" _Reach for a solace I find only in my brother sky, we are relieved to know this will someday pass us by and it's got us feeling quite alright. We have no money and we have certainly lost focus_ ," Thomas sings, and Alex closes his eyes, releasing an obscenely long breath.

Hamilton stands, grabbing his winter coat off the doorknob and slides his feet into the boots, burrowing his hands into some gloves and storming outside. He doesn't stop at the building's entrance this time, and instead plows through the snow, following Thomas' barefoot prints, finally reaching the other man. His dark hair is clumped with white, a bit wet and saggy, making him look sort of like Angelica Schuyler, and his eyes are closed happily, dark eyelashes touching his cheeks as he sings.

" _Well I've thrown myself to the stratosphere, I've thrown my heart to the atmosphere_ ," he bobs his head in the snow, lodging more snow into his hair. Alex closes his hand around his arm, and his eyes snap open, and he flails slightly against the shorter man, swatting at his dark ponytail. Alex lets out a growl, tightening his grip as Thomas whines.

"You fucking idiot," Alex hisses through his teeth once they're inside. Thomas glares at him again, and he throws his hands up into the air. "What the fuck is wrong with you? It's like 20 degrees outside, you're wearing a t-shirt and shorts and you storm into the snow barefoot! What the hell? You could get hypothermia! You could die!"

"Maybe if we were more at peace with the Earth we wouldn't die. I was out there for some time and I feel fine," Thomas retorts.

"Are you kidding me? Our bodies don't work like that! You feel fine because you're probably in some sort of paralytic shock or just because you're drunk!"

"Once we respect nature we get a lot safer in it,"

"Prove it," Alex challenges.

"When I was a senior, I was in art class. And this story is true; Ask Laurens, he was there." Thomas starts, interrupting Alex before he could get another word in, "I was just chillin', doin' my thing, drawing this bee on my desk. And suddenly some girl was like 'oh my god! there's a bee on your desk!' and, like, pointing at it. At least three other people screamed and someone ran into the hallway, and the teacher grabbed this fly swatter we kept in the classroom for some reason. And he came up to me, about to kill the bee, and I told him not to. He didn't, and I picked the bee up. It just kind of crawled on my hand and I walked it over to a window and let it out. I didn't get stung, nobody was hurt, and I saved that bee's life.

"Now, either that bee really liked how I drew him, or Mother Nature is rewarding me for being so respectful." Thomas concluded his story with a satisfied look, and Alex's fist twitched from where it rested on his leg.

"Just because one bee didn't sting you doesn't mean you're some sort of god," the smaller man said, exasperated.

"No, but it shows that we can be one with nature if we try. I've been an environmental activist since I was, like, six, and it's paid off. I don't notice that one of my windows is always open, I don't get stung by bees, and everything that I plant survives really well," Jefferson replied, meeting Alex's eyes.

"So you think that if we take better care of our Earth, nature would never be a threat to us?" he said slowly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes and instead meet Thomas' dark brown ones.

"Nature's never really been a threat," the other man nods.

Alex scoffs a bit, and Thomas' face suddenly grows serious.

"We gotta pick a wolf to feed, man," he whispers, leaning back into Alex's bed.

"Wait, no, don't go to bed, what the fuck does that mean?" Hamilton practically screeches, but Thomas is far too drunk to hear, as he tunes out of the world, focusing the sounds of the wind floating in through the window he opened when he got to Hamilton's dorm.

Alex huffs, his arms crossing over his chest as he realises how wet his bed is going to be tomorrow from all that snow in Thomas' hair and clothes, and how he'll probably be complaining for all of tomorrow about how he has a headache from the drinking and cold air.

But then again, Alex had no idea what type of drunk Thomas was, so how would he know that the man never got hangovers? Really, if he had just listened to John's warnings and Laf's snickering, maybe he wouldn't be here right now.


End file.
